


Transmutation

by Thrace Addicted (Amidala_Thrace)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2010-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amidala_Thrace/pseuds/Thrace%20Addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starbuck is encouraged to shape up by her commander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transmutation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for my application to Quotable Muse and applied to the fanfic50 prompt #047 Broken. Originally posted February 24, 2008. Spoilers through S3's "Torn."

She's lost her edge, and she knows it.

Usually she'd be sitting there playing cards, maybe sucking back some whiskey, laughing with Lee and Kat and Hotdog, recounting her latest mission. Apollo getting digs in all the way and she returning them, because that's what Kara Thrace does. That's what _Starbuck_ does.

That's what Starbuck used to do.

Now, she sits and stares into her drink. Colonel Tigh beside her. Tigh, whom she could not bear to look at without punching. But that was before New Caprica. Before they'd unexpectedly become allies, united against a common threat. No one understands how difficult it was for her down there. No one except the colonel, who boasts a patch over his right eye as testament to what he was forced to endure. They stick together because they walk the same dark road.

Kara keeps staring. She keeps staring as Adama walks into the room and orders everyone else out. Keeps staring as she thinks how they used to treat each other as father and daughter. Now, they may as well be strangers.

"Put your sidearms on the table," the Admiral says.

Kara looks at him in disbelief, a questioning smile cracking her facade. _What the frak is he playing at?_ she asks in a glance at Tigh. But the latter only nods, and reaches for his pocket.

Grudgingly she draws out the sleek black weapon, slamming it onto the table. The safety's off; it could have detonated right there and killed them all. Kara isn't really shocked to find that she doesn't care. Death would be a relief. She wouldn't have to face her own thoughts. Wouldn't have to face the fact that she was so completely and utterly tricked. Wouldn't have to face the fact that against all of her instincts, she _wanted_ Kacey. And it hurt to see her taken away.

Adama launches into one of his typical speeches, about how the both of them aren't themselves and he doesn't know them anymore and they can't continue acting as though they were the only ones to suffer during the New Caprica incident. Kara's barely listening. She doesn't need this crap, partly because she knows it already and partly because it would be just one more thing to feel guilty about. _I've got enough frakking guilt. You could siphon it the frak off me, godsdammit_.

A sudden motion in her peripheral vision makes her start. Adama's raised his fist and it's coming _directly towards her_ and with a smack, it makes stinging contact. Her face is burning and the impact is enough to knock her off her chair and leave her sprawled on the floor. It hurts. But not nearly as much as what he says next.

"I used to love you like a daughter." His eyes are chips of cold steel. "Not anymore."

Kara blinks away the tears. She won't cry. She _can't_ cry. She has endured far worse beatings at the hands of her mother. Physical pain, for Kara Thrace, does not exist.

Or she thought it didn't.

"Start acting like an officer or get off my ship," Adama says.

She isn't aware of getting to her feet, but she does. She isn't aware of walking down the companionway to the pilots' quarters, but she does. She isn't aware of picking up a cutting tool, but she does.

Kara stares at her long blond locks in the mirror. They are the most prescient reminder of her time on New Caprica, a time she will never be able to fully forget. That time took away so much. Her sense of dignity, her image of herself as invincible, her freedom. But she gained Kacey. Kacey, who is not her daughter, but is somehow still part of her life. The child looks up to her. Kara doesn't want to be a role model, especially not to a two-year-old, but she doesn't have a choice.

_Snip_.

A tangle of hair drops to the counter in front of her.

_Snip_.

More hair falls. She is beginning to recognize herself, recognize the Kara Thrace she was before leaving _Galactica_.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

She's cutting away New Caprica.

A half hour later, Kara walks toward the civilian section of the battlestar. She kneels as the child who might have been her daughter hands her a grubby stuffed animal. Kara hugs it, remembering suddenly what it was like to be young, and innocent.

She was young and innocent once.

Kacey flies into her arms. _I don't frakking deserve this_, Kara wants to say. _I'm not your hero. I'm nobody's hero_.

The child looks up at her, adoration in every inch of her face. Kara clutches her, eyes wet.

_Tomorrow is another day_.


End file.
